More "Forty-niners" boarded the Robert Burns. One in particular took Charley's eye. He came out in a skiff, from a small wood landing, where some steamers, but not the Robert Burns, stopped to load up with fuel. When the Robert Burns whistled and paused, floating idly, and he had clambered in, he proved to be a very tall, gaunt, black-whiskered individual, with a long, muzzle-loading squirrel rifle on his arm. A darky tossed a blanket roll up after him, and rowed away for the shore.
The man looked like a backwoodsman—and again he looked like a Californian, too, for his clothes were an old blue flannel7 shirt (with a rolling collar having white stars in the corners), patched buckskin trousers and heavy boots of the regulation style. Charley chanced to be crossing the salon8 or main cabin when the man was paying for his passage, and there witnessed something exciting that made him dart9 out and find his father.
"Dad!" hoarsely10 whispered Charley. "That was a gold miner who came aboard in a skiff! He was paying his fare with gold dust."
"Was he? How do you know?"
"I saw him at the desk, but the clerk wouldn't take any dust, so he had to pay with money. He has a buckskin sack, just like ours. Wish I could talk with him."
"Maybe he'll talk with you, if you give him the chance. You can try and see. But don't ask him any foolish questions, or seem inquisitive11."
Presently the tall man (he was taller even than Mr. Adams) emerged from the cabin, to stand by the rail, leaning on his rifle and gazing at the shore line. A picturesque12 figure he made, with his starred shirt-collar rolled back, and his leathery trousers wrinkled down over his boot-tops.
Charley sidled around him, expectantly; and the man noticed him.
"You look as if you were going out, too," addressed the man, a twinkle under his bushy brows.
"Yes, sir," answered Charley. "To California."
"Anybody with you?"
"My father." And Charley proudly nodded toward another tall form. "Were you ever there?" he added, hesitantly.
"I should rather think so. Five years ago, and four years ago; and now I'm making another trip by a new route. The other times I crossed by the land trail."
"Oh, you must have been with Frémont!" exclaimed Charley.
The whiskered man nodded.
"I was. I was with Carson and Frémont in Forty-three—Forty-four, and again in Forty-five—Forty-six."
"I know about those travels," cried Charley. "I'm reading Colonel Frémont's reports now. I'm just finishing his last one. I guess they're about the best description of California there is. Did you fight in the war?"
The man smiled.
"See my shirt?" he queried13. "All we Frémont men wore these navy shirts—some of us clear through the campaign. The sloop14 of war Portsmouth sent us a lot of ship's supplies, when we marched down from the mountains to Sutter's Fort, just before the uprising of the Bear War in June, Forty-six. I saved my shirt, and now I only wear it occasionally. I'm sorter proud of this shirt."
"I should think you would be," agreed Charley. "Did you mine in California?"
"Yes, sir. I started in to settle there, after the war, till the gold craze broke out. Ever see any dust?"
"Some," admitted Charley.
"There's not much in this sack now," continued the Frémont man, showing it. "But I've filled it many a time."
"I've got a sack, too," said Charley, exhibiting it.
"You've been out there?"
"No, sir. I got this in St. Louis."
"Let's see." And the man fingered it. "It's old-timer—been used plenty. Some dust sticking to it, too. Huh."
"Is there lots of gold out there?" asked Charley.
"Gold?" repeated the man; and laughed. "I found fifteen hundred dollars in two days, first thing; then I didn't find any for a month. But I cleaned up $10,000, and I'm going back after more. It's all luck, now; but after the surface has been scraped off, then it will be skill. Does your father know anything about mining?"
"No, sir. He's a soldier. He was with General Scott."
"That won't cut much figure," said the man, quickly. "Soldiers and sailors and lawyers and doctors and farmers and trappers and even Indians are all grubbing together—and none of us knows a blamed thing except that gold is soft and yellow and will pass for currency—sixteen dollars an ounce. But good luck to you. Going across the Isthmus, I reckon?"
"Yes, sir."
"That's the easier way. Well, if I see you out there and can help you along any way, you can count on me. But it's a country where every tub stands on its own bottom, and no man's any better than any other man."
So saying, he threw his rifle into the hollow of his arm and paced away, into the cabin. Charley gazed after him, and reflected that although they might have an enemy with them, they also had made a friend.
"If he was with Carson and Frémont, he's all right," declared Mr. Adams, when Charley related the conversation. "But we'll be beholden to nobody, as long as we can help ourselves. We two bunkies can paddle our own canoe, can't we?"
The Robert Burns continued on, down to New Orleans. The long-nosed man kept to the cabin, mainly, where a number of rough passengers spent their time drinking and gambling15. The Frémont man was about the quietest of all the passengers, mingling16 little, talking little. He exchanged a few civil words with Mr. Adams, and kindly17 greeted Charley, when they were near one another. That was all.
Charley thought rather the more of him, that he was not the blustering18, boasting kind, even though he had blazed the long trail across to California, with Frémont and Carson. He evidently was a man of deeds, not words.
New Orleans was reached in the afternoon—and a fine big city it looked to be, as the Robert Burns whistled hoarsely and swung for the levee. However, the Forty-niners aboard her had not much thought for the looks of the city; their minds were more upon whether the Georgia had arrived, and how soon they could get aboard her, for the Isthmus and California gold fields.
In the excitement of bustling19 ashore20 Charley forgot all about the long-nosed man, who disappeared with the other scattering21 passengers.
"Where's the dock of the Isthmus steamers?" queried Mr. Adams, of a lounger, as he and Charley landed, the roll of bedding on Mr. Adams's shoulder.
"Eet is still down the river, m'sieur," answered the man—who was a young French creole. "M'sieur would better ride than walk."
"All right. Thank you," and Mr. Adams hailed an odd carriage, drawn22 by one horse between a of long curved shafts23. They piled in.
"To the Isthmus dock," ordered Mr. Adams.
"You want to catch the Georgia?" asked the driver,
"We do."
"She's about coming in. They're looking for her."
"Will I have time to get our tickets?"
"Plenty. She'll lie over till morning."
"All right. Go ahead."
The dock bore a large sign, which said: "Steamers for the Isthmus and California." There was an enormous pile of baggage and a crowd of people, of all kinds, waiting. But the Georgia had not come in yet. Mr. Adams left Charley there to watch their baggage and was driven away in haste to get their tickets.
Suddenly a cry arose: "There she comes! That's she!" Down the broad river—never so broad as here—welled a cloud of black smoke, and a big steamer surged into view. What a big thing she was! She could carry two or three Robert Burnses. She was a side-wheeler, of course, but her paddle boxes stood as high as houses. Across her pilot house was a gilt25 sign reading "Georgia"—and on her paddle box, as she swung around, appeared another "Georgia," in large black letters.
Charley gazed in dismay, for every inch of her seemed occupied by passengers. The upper deck and middle deck and lower deck appeared full of figures, with heads craning to gaze.
"That's the boat," quoth a voice at Charley's elbow. He turned and found the Frémont man by his side, leaning on his long rifle. "Do you like her looks?"
"How are we to get on?" answered Charley. "Why, she's full already, isn't she?"
The Frémont man nodded, and smiled.
"I expect she is. She's built to carry 500 and they'll put 1500 on her. 'T isn't right—but it's the way they're doing, so as to make money. We'll be lucky to find sleeping space on deck, and get enough to eat. But everything goes, in the rush to California. If you think these Atlantic steamers are big boats, you ought to see the steamers on the other side."
"Are they better?"
"Considerably26. The Pacific Mail Company runs them. They are better and better managed; but those boats'll be packed, too. All we can do is to make the best of it, after we've paid our money."
"Are you going on the Georgia?" hopefully asked Charley.
The Frémont man nodded.
"I'll go if I can find a six-foot space to lie down on—and I reckon I will."
The Georgia docked. A number of passengers hustled27 off, and then began the rush aboard. How the gold seekers shoved and scrambled28 and fought! The gangway was a mass of shoulders and hats and blanket rolls.
"Coming on?" invited the Frémont man, to Charley.
Charley hesitated. He was impatient, but he didn't know——
"I'm waiting for my father," he explained.
"We'd better find our places while we can, and have one ready for him," prompted the Frémont man.
He picked up the bed rolls, and hurried ahead, Charley at his heels. At the rail an official glanced at his ticket, and waved him to the upper deck. Charley followed. The ticket gave first-class cabin privileges, but what did these amount to, when 1500 passengers were being crowded upon a 500-passenger boat? Even standing29 room seemed to be valuable.
They pushed along through the mass of passengers and friends and relatives, who acted, some of them, too dazed and confused to move aside, and mounted the stairs leading to the upper decks. When they emerged into the open air, the Frémont man paused uncertainly, puffing30, to survey the outlook.
The clerk scanned him impudently32.
"No, sir. Every berth was taken before we left New York."
"Then why did the company sell us tickets?"
"That, sir," said the clerk, with an irritating smile, "is none of my business." And he hurried away.
"Well, we might as well begin to rough it now as any time," remarked the Frémont man, after a keen look at the back of the retreating clerk. "We'll have to make our own way—and I reckon we can do it. Come on."
He shouldered ahead, Charley in his wake. The emerged aft, on the upper deck.
"Wait here a moment," bade the Frémont man; and abruptly33 left Charley on guard over the baggage. He returned in a minute or two.
"No berths," he reported. "I wanted to find out. Now I know. We can sleep in the steerage, they tell me. Huh! Not after we've paid extra for fresh air. Let me look around."
He did, surveying the crowded deck. Suddenly picked up the baggage.
"I see a spot," he said, and led the way.
Just outside the rail, over the stern was slung34 a large boat—one of the ship's life-boats. It hung by ropes to the davits, and was covered with a tarpaulin35, or canvas, stretched over it and tied down.
The Frémont man halted, at the rail, and pitched the baggage over upon the boat.
"There we are," he said with a smile, to Charley. "Some of us can sleep on top—and if it rains I reckon we can double under. Go get your father, now, and I'll hold the fort."
Away hurried Charley—excited, and in his mind the idea that this was to be the queerest bed that he had occupied yet. But he had faith in the big Frémont man.
He took a look from the rail, to watch the dock below. Most of the passengers up here were crowded at this rail, to survey just as he was surveying. The stern had been left comparatively free. There was his father—he recognized the tall figure, and the limp—just arrived below, gazing about anxiously. Charley yelled, and waved, but he could not make himself heard or seen. Too much else was going on. So he raced down, and rushed out upon the dock.
"Come on, quick, dad," he greeted, breathless. "We've found a place!"
"Who?"
"The Frémont man and I. He found it, though."
"Did you get a berth?" panted his father, following him. "They told me at the steamship36 office that every berth was taken long ago. I had to fight for the tickets, even. Never saw such a mob."
"No, not a berth. But it's a place, anyhow. You'll see."
In the short space of time the upper deck had grown more populous37 than ever. They worked their way through the crowd, Charley eagerly looking ahead for the Frémont man at his post.
"There he is," directed Charley, gladly. "See him. We've got the life-boat!"
But perhaps they hadn't, for when they arrived, the Frémont man was calmly barring the way of three other men—among them the long-nosed man, who was doing most of the arguing on their part.
"No, gentlemen, you're too late," asserted the Frémont man, thrusting them back with his rifle-barrel held crosswise. "That boat's occupied."
Charley remembered to have seen the little gang much together, on the Georgia, drinking and gambling. They were a tough lot.
"Tell that to the marines," retorted the long-nosed man. "We'll have that boat, or we'll know a better reason than you're giving."
"Reason enough, and here's my proof," quoth the Frémont man. "The boat's pre-empted by us three. You must hunt another claim."
"What's this about?" he demanded.
"Oh, it's you again, is it—you and your kid!" snarled40 the long-nosed man. "You're chalking up another score to settle, are you?" And, to his fellows: "What do you say, boys? Shall we throw them overboard?"
"Over they go," announced one of the other men—a thin sallow, drooping-moustached kind—with marvelous swiftness whipping from under his coat breast a fifteen-inch blade bowie-knife.
Charley's heart leaped into his throat with horror. He wanted to spring to his father's side, but his legs would not work. However, the affair was settled very easily. The Frémont man quickly handed his rifle to Mr. Adams, grabbed the long-nosed Jacobs, in bear-like grip, and fairly threw him into the man with the knife. Together the pair went down in a heap, almost knocking over several of the onlookers41.
"You next," declared the Frémonter, with a jump at the third of the gang—who hastily recoiled42, in alarm. So did the onlookers. So did the two men who were scrambling43 to their feet again. The Frémont man had proved as quick and as strong as a gorilla44. Now he laughed grimly.
"Come on," he invited. "Come on with your knives or anything else that you have. But we won't go overboard just yet. We can't swim!"
The three fellows didn't "come on," worth a cent. The one with the knife hung back farthest of all. They sputtered45 and glared, a little uncertain just what to do with a man so energetic and fearless as the Frémont man.
"All right, boys," snarled the long-nosed man. "There's more than one way to deal with 'em. We don't want trouble. We're peaceable citizens. But if that boat doesn't belong to us, it doesn't belong to anybody." And he threatened, to the Frémont man and Charley's father: "In about five minutes we'll settle your hash."
With that he turned, and he and his two companions shouldered their way brusquely through the crowd.
The Frémont man laughed again.
"Fists are the only weapons needed with gentry46 of that class," he said, contemptuously. "Bah! I think more of Digger Injuns."
Some of the onlookers nodded and murmured assent47. The half circle that had been attracted by the dispute broke up. Nobody had tried to interfere48, even when the knife had been drawn. Charley soon found that similar contests for sleeping places were occurring everywhere aboard. It was a grand free-for-all rush.
Mr. Adams gave Charley an assuring nod, as if to say: "Here's a man who knows what to do and how to do it"; and he remarked, quietly, to their friend: "Thanks to you, I guess we're rid of that trouble."
"And easily rid, too," answered the Frémont man; he composedly reached for his rifle, leaned it against the rail, and standing on the bench running inside the rail began to rearrange the baggage on the canvas covering of the boat.
But he was interrupted, for there came in a hurry a ship's officer, as if sent by the long-nosed man.
"Here! Take your things off that boat," he ordered. "You can't use that boat. It's a life-boat."
"Where are we to stow ourselves, then?" queried Mr. Adams, at once.
"I don't know. But you can't use that boat."
"Will you give us a berth in place of it?"
"No, sir," informed the officer, crisply.
"We've got to have some place for ourselves and our personal baggage, sir," declared Mr. Adams. "Our tickets entitle us to a berth. We're doing the best we can, to keep from littering the deck; but if you insist on imposing49 further we'll carry the matter to Government authority and see whether we were not sold tickets under false pretenses50."
The officer hesitated. Clearly, these three passengers knew how to stand up for themselves. He decided51 to let well enough alone.
"You occupy the boat at your own risk, then," he snapped. "The company does not hold itself liable. Understand that?"
The officer turned on his heel, and left them in possession.
"That settles us, I reckon," quoth the Frémont man, springing lightly down. "It's our claim."
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1
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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plantation
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| n.种植园，大农场 | |
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isthmus
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| n.地峡 | |
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falcon
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| n.隼，猎鹰 | |
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behooved
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| v.适宜( behoove的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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flannel
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| n.法兰绒；法兰绒衣服 | |
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salon
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| n.[法]沙龙；客厅；营业性的高级服务室 | |
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dart
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| v.猛冲，投掷；n.飞镖，猛冲 | |
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hoarsely
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| adv.嘶哑地 | |
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inquisitive
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| adj.求知欲强的，好奇的，好寻根究底的 | |
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picturesque
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| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
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13
queried
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| v.质疑，对…表示疑问( query的过去式和过去分词 )；询问 | |
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sloop
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| n.单桅帆船 | |
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gambling
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| n.赌博；投机 | |
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mingling
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| adj.混合的 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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18
blustering
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| adj.狂风大作的，狂暴的v.外强中干的威吓( bluster的现在分词 )；咆哮；（风）呼啸；狂吹 | |
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bustling
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| adj.喧闹的 | |
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ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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scattering
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| n.[物]散射；散乱，分散；在媒介质中的散播adj.散乱的；分散在不同范围的；广泛扩散的；（选票）数量分散的v.散射(scatter的ing形式)；散布；驱散 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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shafts
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| n.轴( shaft的名词复数 )；（箭、高尔夫球棒等的）杆；通风井；一阵（疼痛、害怕等） | |
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lash
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| v.系牢；鞭打；猛烈抨击；n.鞭打；眼睫毛 | |
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gilt
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| adj.镀金的；n.金边证券 | |
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considerably
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| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
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hustled
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| 催促（hustle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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scrambled
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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puffing
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| v.使喷出( puff的现在分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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berth
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| n.卧铺，停泊地，锚位；v.使停泊 | |
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impudently
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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slung
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| 抛( sling的过去式和过去分词 )； 吊挂； 遣送； 押往 | |
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tarpaulin
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| n.涂油防水布，防水衣，防水帽 | |
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steamship
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| n.汽船，轮船 | |
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populous
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| adj.人口稠密的，人口众多的 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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snarled
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| v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的过去式和过去分词 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
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onlookers
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| n.旁观者，观看者( onlooker的名词复数 ) | |
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recoiled
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| v.畏缩( recoil的过去式和过去分词 )；退缩；报应；返回 | |
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43
scrambling
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的现在分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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gorilla
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| n.大猩猩，暴徒，打手 | |
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45
sputtered
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| v.唾沫飞溅( sputter的过去式和过去分词 )；发劈啪声；喷出；飞溅出 | |
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gentry
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| n.绅士阶级，上层阶级 | |
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assent
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| v.批准，认可；n.批准，认可 | |
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48
interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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49
imposing
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| adj.使人难忘的，壮丽的，堂皇的，雄伟的 | |
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50
pretenses
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| n.借口（pretense的复数形式） | |
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51
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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52
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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